


The Red King

by Alonnitz



Category: South Park
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, South Park: The Stick of Truth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:45:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alonnitz/pseuds/Alonnitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago, a human child got lost near the borders of the great forest of Larnion. It was a stroke of luck that brought him into the same clearing as a young runaway elven prince,  and the two became fast friends.</p><p>Many years later, war tear apart thire lives and world. The only way to restore the peace is to find the anciant relic known as "The Stick of Truth"... before the enemy dose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologe

Long ago, a human child got lost near the borders of the great forest of Larnion. He had no family, save a wolf-pup he had found, and no hope at the lands of man.

  
It was a stroke of luck that brought him into the same clearing as a young runaway elven prince, who elected to run and play in the woods instead of learning of the flora and fauna of the great woods, as he should have been. Away from the camp his maids and tutors have set, his little twig crown entangles in a mess of copper curls, he lay on the grass, looking at the clouds.

The little redheaded elf did not look like he was evil at all, thought then the human child, with curiosity bubbling up. In the human lands they said elves were creatures of dark and dangerous magic. But the child in the clearing only looked mildly board, not like someone who would rip him apart.  
So the human- Stan was his name, even if it had been long since he last used it- approached the elf.

The prince was sharply startled from his daydream by the nose made by nearing footsteps- but instead of the tutors, he saw another kid his age. Human he understood in a shock of fear, but only a small one. He carried no sword, a wolf pup following his step. He looked strange, but not dangerous at all. He looked lost, and hungry.

  
"What are you doing in this forest, human child?" he asked, trying to sound like his tutors told him he should- regal, and commending, but it came out more curios than anything else.

The human shrugged. "I have nowhere else to go, and the forest have food and shelter."

  
"No human kin to take care of you?"

The child bit his lips then. "None."

The elven prince felt sudden kinship and sorrow for this human, lost at strange lands with no one to care for him.

"I'm Kyle." He said then.

"Stan."

"I- I'm sorry to hear that, Stan." He said when an idea struck him. "You could come and live with me!" Kyle eyes lightened. "I don’t care that your human- you look like a nice human!" he said with pride.

"What?"

"You can be my friend and live with me at the palace!" He said excitingly. "I don't have many friends… or, real friends anyway. Sometimes being crown prince sucks."  
And so Stan, later named Marshwalker for his circumstances, came to live with the royal elven family, and befriending the prince Kyle.

The years passed. Stan Marshwalker became an anomaly of the elven royal guard. Mostly because he was human,but also because he was the only alpha among them. Most of the guards were older beta, as alphas, especially young ones such as himself, were generally considered too aggressive for this type of duty. Young alpha were mostly soldiers or commanders. Guards needed to be calm, collected and focused, not swayed by rage and hormones- Especially considering the young king they swore to defend was an unbounded Prime Omega. Not that the king was helpless- he could protect himself more than fine. Prime Omega had the ability to make even a strong willed hard-headed alpha to do their bidding when needed- but fights among the guards will sure to follow.

Stan was the exception. He was trained to resist every urge, control every impulse, ever since he presented as a young teen. It was made very clear for him, back than- that was the condition to keep hanging out with his best friend, then still the prince.

He underwent temperance training under the Royal trainer himself. The Queen made it painfully clear she will not have a young, uncontrolled alpha threatening her precious son's safety. By the age of fourteen he had tremendous willpower and took up training with the sword- since the trainer encouraged him to get a healthy output to the natural aggressive urge. The guards enjoyed training the little human back then, giving him something similar to a family. He ran around them, admiring their skill and eager to learn everything he could from them. They sparred with him often, and even though he lacked the elven eyesight needed to master archery the way they did, not too long passed before he was so good with his sword even the captain had a hard time beating him.

It was the captain's idea to make him a guard as he finally completed his temperance training at sixteen, and his trainer swore to the Queen that he was the most controlled and tempered alpha he has ever seen. He was so proud and happy then, because after three years of separation, if only by walls and time- he finally got to see his best friend again. They wrote letters and Kyle's personal servant passed them back and forth, but it was not the same as actually being together.

Still, he was glad for every second of his training when they finally met again. He understood why no alpha was normally allowed in the guard the moment he actually got into the same room with the prince. Even at the presence of a prime alpha like the queen shadowing it down, Kyle's presence assaulted his senses and threatened to cloud his mind. He understood now the power a prime Omega had. The prince could have asked for anything and he would have complied. He would have done anything to please him, obey every command for the right to bask in the sheer presence of him. Lesser alpha would have sunk to their knees, or would have become a mindless toll to fulfill the prince's will.

But Stan managed to smile a crooked smile and say "this robe makes you look like a jackass."

"Excuse me?" the magic of the prince's presence broke, as he sounded rather undignified and shocked at the statement, but he smiled- crooked and still just the same as it was. It was a relief, but a faint feeling of it still hung in the air.

"Sorry. I meant to say that this robe makes you look like a jackass, _your highness_."

The relief was clear. It promised that nothing really changed between them, and for another year, all was fine. Even the queen, suspicious at first, saw that Stan was in perfect control over himself, and so, for the matter, was prince Kyle. They were once again the best of friends, when they could find the time to spend together and sometimes even when they didn't. Kyle's tutors have long ago learned that if the prince was not at his lessons, all they had to do was ask where Stan was supposed to be. Eventually, all came to the conclusion that Stan should be appointed the prince's bodyguard, as they were once again practically joined by the hip. Kyle would show him his druid magic- the only part of his studies he actually liked- and Stan would show him all the new moves he learned from the guards with sword and spear.

But it all came to a violent, abrupt ending as a war with the human kingdom of Kupa Keep had started. The Queen was assassinated, the borders attacked, and the usually peaceful forest filled with screams. The elven troops marched to defeat the invaders, with their monarch at the helm.

Kyle's coronation was hardly a time for celebration. With the Queen dead and threats to the very throne, he was coroneted on the way to the battlefield, a war-priest gracing him with a humble crown of branches and leafs. Even the coronation robe was worn over armor- hardened leather showing under red and gold velvet. His first deed as king was not to set a rule or command- it was leading the battle to push the invaders back to the border. For this he was called "King Kyle the Red". He made the sky darken with arrows, called upon the wind and elements to protect his land and people.

His second deed as king was to grace Stan in front of his entire army and called him elf-friend Marshwalker, and knight him. If any had complaints about this honor given to a human, none dear cross their freshly coroneted king, eyes burning and voice commending. Many bowed out of the sheer force of the king's presence, even if it was inhabited by powerful potions and amulets.

Half a year after the first news of the human invasion came to the palace of Larnion, the border was once again safe. But dark shadows still lingered over the elven kingdom.

The new human king, a young ambitions Wizard of tremendous powers coveted an ancient relic, rumored to be held at the elven lands- the stick of truth. The stick held powers neither elf nor human understood, and the wizard would stop at nothing to get it. Stan stopped himself several attempts on the king's life- each filling his heart with more dread then the last.

He was a warrior; spilling blood was not new to him. But the fear of failing and losing his best friend and lord made him remember those first, horrible weeks after he presented. The mindless anger and fear of being separated from one he held so dear, the feral instinct to tear apart everything he considered a threat resurfaced, like a tidewater in his stomach.

This had to be stopped. So he came to his king with a request, for the first time since they were just children:  
"Please, my lord. Let us form a party and go to seek the stick of truth."

His only surprise was when the king smiled back at him. "At one condition- I'm coming along with you."


	2. The Prisoners

The war chamber in the great Larnion Palace was an impressive room- all wooden carvings and pillars, naturally combining with the living trees on which the palace was built. The lamps glowed with the gentle light of magic crystals, since elves used fire for cooking and heat only. The grand oaken table was large enough to sit two dozen men, along with all the maps and plans. At the head of the table there was a beautifully decorated high and chair, for the king, and a slightly heightened step on which he could stand so everyone would see him clearly.

But now the hall was almost empty, except for three people. The first was the king himself, in hid silken red and gold, pacing in circles and deep in thought. Nest to the table, eyes fixed of his king, set Stan. And across from him, in his greens and yellows, set the royal bard. His name was Jimmy, and even though he was born with crippled legs, had a silver tongue and golden hands. He was one of the king's closest friends ever since childhood.  

The soft steps on the wooden floor combined with the silent music the bard was playing absentmindedly and the sound of the Knight's fingers tapping on the table. Even before the war started, the bard had a hobby of collecting ancient stories, songs, and myths. Now, he was sitting there, telling the king of any story, scroll of song that mentioned the Stick of Truth, even of only by word. The table was covers in books, maps and scrolls, old druid texts and runs of the long-forgotten ancient elvish. It has been hours since they first came into the room, then accompanied by many wise men of the elven Kingdome. They talked about every word, scanned all of it carefully, but to no avail. One by one the men retired back to their duties, as the moon has risen.

"There is no point to this!" the king finally cried in despair. "There isn't even half a clue to where the relic might be, or even what its use!"

"E-E-Excuse me, your highness…" The bard looks at the ceiling. "But I D-D-disagree. The legends brought the humans H-H-Here, so they must have a reason t-to believe the stick is here."

"But our stories tell us noting of what happened to the relic since the kingdoms split, or what happened to last one possessing it!" Kyle says grumpily, his temper beginning to show himself out of tiredness. "They only mention the power to 'control'. But that could mean anything."

"Well, those are the tales that we have. " Mumbled Stan, long bored of this. Even thought he was more alert then the other two, used to staying up late on guard. His fingers kept drumming against the table.

"W-What did you say?" the Bard suddenly lifted  his eyebrow curiously.

"Ho, Jimmy, not you too…" Kyle signed deeply, yet mastered the power to glare at the bard, and even without looking Stan knew it was almost physically painful to be at the other end of this disapproving look. "Stan may not be an elf by birth, but he is one of us. No one had a problem with him before the war."

"I-I-I di-di-di- I didn’t mean that." stuttered Jimmy quickly, "O-Of course H-H-He's one of use. I wi-will never doubt his loyalty." He bravely lifted his gaze to meet Kyle's, which was an impressive show of courage. "Wh-What crossed my mind was that the human's legends of the stick m-m-might be different then our own."

"..And these led them to believe the stick is somewhere in our lands…" mumbled the king.

"So all we have to do is find out what the enemy thinks." Stan said sternly. "This way we could predict what they are planning and to stop them."

Kyle's eyes shined as an idea crossed his mind. "That's it! We need information from the human kingdoms. Have we taken any prisoners of war of high status that might know anything about this?" he turned to Stan with a questioning look.

"Two, I believe, my lord," Stan said after a while. "Paladin and a Mage, both in your prison cells, since we believed they may be valuable if we'll ever need to exchange prisoners. But it seems they won't talk easily."

It was then wen a crocked smile has shown on Jimmy's face. "L-Leave the i-interrogation to me. We bards are good at making people T-T-Talk."

Kyle's relief was so powerful Stan could feel it flowing from him in waves, gently drumming against his skin, and he closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to bask in it for a moment. Even Jimmy, who was largely immune to most emotional effects, looked a bit more relaxed. "Good. Then let's all retire for the night. Tomorrow we'll find out more about ore prisoners… and the stick."

The scrolls all carried Druid runs, and neatly folded themselves when the commend was activated. Stan busied himself with collecting them one by one and organizing them back into to box, that will later be delivered back to the royal library.

Jimmy then rose from his heat/ and stood before Kyle. "W-Well, my lord. I would have bowed-"

Kyle sniggered slightly, this was a familiar line of Jimmy's.

"But sadly, you'll have to do with a goodnight full of respect."

"Goodnight, Jimmy. Rest well."

The bard left the hall, his crutches tapping repeatedly on the hallway floor, slowly growing fainter as he made his way to his rooms. Meanwhile, Stan finished organizing the scrolls and locked them safely, hiding his yawning.

"Come on, Stan, just hurry up." The tired, almost whiny voice Kyle used at the moment would have left a shock on all who only saw the king under official circumstance. It was almost childlike. "I'm tired."

"Coming, coming…."  Mumbled Stan and hurried to the doors before the king would decide to do something foolish, like leaving alone for his rooms. Once it didn't bother him at all, but the threat of assassins was fresh in his mind like an open wound since death of the late queen.

He WAS a bodyguard, after all. It was his job to protect the king, his sworn duty, and his alpha protective instincts were an advantage there. He just had to keep in mind that he must not… give into it too much. Kyle was not his mate, but his king. Still, he was irreplaceable for the kingdom, and very dear to him. That was the reason he suffered his training, and all the times he had to wonder did the spoiled, bratty prince really understand what Stan had to do for his sake.  Sometimes he wondered if Kyle took his loyalty for granted…

Tiredness always brought gloomy thoughts to him, yet even so late at night the elven palace was a beautiful place. All soft, natural color, long halls and balconies hanging from the trees for the forest, gentle architecture designed to grow with and around living wood. Technically, the royal bedchambers were at the top of the tallest tree, but it was not where they were heading.

Kyle never slept there, not even once. Sleeping in the same bed that his late parents did… he described the feeling as insurable. So he remained in his old chambers that were smaller and lower.

Stan knew these rooms like the back of his own hand. He sneaked there all the time when they were children, past their bedtime, and they would read or play together until someone eventually caught them. That was one of the reasons things changed in these rooms since the assassination.

The years of experience in sneaking to these rooms taught him all the weakness and blind spots in them. He could protect them better than anyone, and now there was only one way in. You could not climb up or down to the windows, not with hooks, ropes, or magic. The door was set with an alarm, and he took to sleeping in the small room that connected the large bedroom to the hall.

But there was still a bit of climbing to the rooms, and so the king seemly forgotten him manners completely, yawning loudly with his mouth wide open. "…So tired… could fall asleep here and now…"

"Then enjoy the floor, Sire. Because I'm NOT carrying you up the stairs." Stan rolled his eyes. "Really, you never got rid of that rotten habit just to fall asleep wherever you like. They should have let you catch a cold once instead of having you carried to bed every time."

"Funny YOU should say that." Kyle spat right back. "Since I recall SOMEONE falling asleep while standing up during morning formations in front of the court." It was part joking and part petty, which was quite adorable, really.

"Maybe if the master I'm serving would tell his captain of the guards not to be so boring, I could have stayed awake." He sniggered.

"So you can thank me for giving you a job that makes sure you will never attend these snore-fests anymore."

They got to the doors and unlocked them, the smell of wax and fresh laundry welcoming as always, safe and familiar. Stan moved forward and opened the bedroom door in a half-joking curtsy.  "Congratulation on making it all the way to your bedroom without falling asleep, my king. How shell I congratulate you for this formidable achievement?"

Kyle blushed with embarrassment. "Ju-Just shut up and go to sleep already!" he said ad he slammed the doors. Still, he caught the "goodnight" he mumbled as the turned the key.

He only managed to drag himself to his sleeping bench and to put down his helmet before falling asleep, still in his light armor and boots.

 

 

-

The next morning was slow. For once, Stan was glad he fell asleep still dressed, so all he had to do was drag himself up and fix his tabard, and he was ready to go. He had to stand behind the king during one of the longest, most boring court sessions ever.  Still, Kyle ended up having his way- he was good at making people do what he wanted.

Only around noon there was finally time to question the human prisoners.

"We gave them enough food and water." Said the head of the guard. "Nothing that could supply them with magic, of course. And we keep then in magic-resistant cambers."

Jimmy, who came with a small lute and in simple tunic and hose, gave the head of the guards a long look. "and w-w-what do we know a-a-a-about them?"

"The blond is called 'Butters the Merciful', a Paladin." Said the head of guards. "He follows the human god of thunder, I believe, and is extremely fervent."

"And how he speaks?" asked Jimmy gently.

"What do you mean?"

"His tone, the way he picks his words? Is he righteous? Polite? How he phrases himself?"  Cleared the bard. "You can learn a lot about a person from the way they talk." And if he looked at Stan then, the other did not notice.

"Ugh, the wardens say he's extremely polite most of the time…." Mumbled the guard. "The kind that says please and thank you. Keeps his prayers every morning and even and before every meal."

Jimmy nodded. "That would do, I be-be-believe. And the other?"

"Mage, odd type." The guard signed. "Pyromancer, if the reports are true and crazy strong. There were even rumors he isn’t human. But he hasn't said a word since he was captured."

"Wo-Wo-Wo-Wonderful. I will see to the P-Paladin then." The bard nodded. "Majesty, and noble Sirs, I must ask you to wait here."

Kyle gave a regal node, and Stan Just peered at the drawn bridge.

The head of the guards walked to the large leaver, and used his key to unlock the chains. Slowly, the bridge leading the prison cells started to unfold. The Palace had no dungeons like human castles, but prison cells hanging high up in the air, with no way in or our without the system of bridges that were drawn most of the time. The bard made his limping way across one of them, to the cell where a pale blond human was sitting.

He was young, almost a boy, and pale with messy light hair. He was still wearing his blue robes, and the golden shield of his order on his chest. Jimmy waited patiently until he finished his prayer.

A few moments later, the paladin turned around.

"You are not one of the wardens… what do you want?" he lifter a suspecting eyebrow.

Jimmy set down. He caught the unsaid please that threatened to escape the paladin's lips.

"G-G-G-Great honor to meet you, S-S-S-Sir Butters the Merciful." Jimmy bowed his head with respect. "I'm T-T-the royal bard, and I h-H-Hoped to use this opportunity to collect some tales from the human lands."

A small inner struggle shown on the paladin's face. Finally. He said with as much conviction as he could muster. "I shall not be tempted by you, retched creature, for I am a pure son of the holy armies!"

Jimmy stroked the lute gently, watching the paladin's face growing hotter, and more excited. So he was used to being cut… and to a rude treatment…' he played a few notes, almost absent mindedly, and let him magic do its work. "I do not mean to tempt you… just wondering about the god you seem so keen to follow…"

The paladin's eyes shone. A true believer, then…. Interesting.

"My god is great and righteous, merciful yet just!" Butters said proudly. "He gave the power to heal the wounded, help the weak, punish evil and repent for our sins. He opens a way to the light even in the darkest night!"

Jimmy kept playing, and listened to the Paladin's speech. 'Not a single mean thought in his head… he's probably pushed around… even used by someone… yet… he doesn't care for that…Who he cares for, then? Why does he do these things?'

Jimmy changed the tune slightly, and waited.

"-Even here in this dark cell, I remember the god that put The Lady McCormick, out princess on earth and I thank him for his greatness and generosity, why, she is the loveliest maiden of them all-" Suddenly, his voice sounded angry. "-Only, because of you, evildoers, she is cursed! And then you have the gall to steal the stick from under our nose! Oh, Poor Lady McCormick, to suffer such a terrible fate!"

Jimmy did his best to hide his surprise. He wasn't aiming at anger… but at least, the stick was mentions, and he strokes a few different notes on his lute.

"But one day, the Grand Wizard king will take the stick back from your hands. Than he shall purge the land from evil and cure the princess! And if it wasn't for you elves, we would already have it! How you reached the ancient Catacombs of Zaron before us I will never know, you thieves, but with the dragonborn on our said you can be sure we will reclaim the stick as rightfully ours-"

Bingo. Jimmy stopped his playing and lifted himself up.

"S-S-Sadly, I understand you W-W-Will not share tales with me." He arranged his crutches "I sincerely H-H-Hope one day you will."

When he got back to the entrance hall, the king already looked impatiently at him.

"L-Luckily for us, the paladin is q-q-q-quite chatty. But he must not u-u-understand what has happened. He's some sort of connection to the king and princess, but is not respected." He walked to the bench and set down. "I-I-it would appear the human king, the grand wizard, blames us for cursing the princess… and probably any o-o-o-other trouble he's having."

"The fatass liar!" The outrage of the king was well felt all around him, simmering to anger. "He declear a war because of this?!"

"-The paladin b-b-b-believes him." jimmy continued. "They a-a-a-also believe that the mage we caught is a dragonborn. It would seem the stick was kept at the catacombs of Zaron, but it is no longer the case. The Grand Wizard a-a-a-assumed that we took it. .. I suggest we look there for further clues to the wer-we-whereabouts of the stick."

The he sent an absolutely wicked smile to Stan. "s-S-S-sadly, I would only slow you down on this quest. Also, I would like to stay to farther interrogate the-the-the prisoners. I will sand a messenger raven if I will discover anything new."

Unlike Stan, who was fervently trying not to think what Jimmy was implying, Kyle completely missed the look, he only looked relived. "Great Job, Jimmy. You are a good friend and an excellent Bard. The preparations for my departure are already made, and the council shell rule in my absence… Still, I would like you to watch my brother… he may not be my blood, but I care not for that."

Jimmy's smile faded into a serious expression. "As you command, my king."

Then Kyle turned to the head of the guards. "Chris, I trust you to protect my brother, and my kingdom in my absence, until I will came back with answers to end this war."

The captain of the guards looked moved, and he bowed deeply. "Everything you ask, my king, may you return as soon as possible."

Stan knew it was silly to be jealous, after all he was riding with the king on this quest… still, he had to fight his instincts for a second. Tonight he will pack everything they need, and tomorrow, they will depart to the catacombs.


End file.
